fenseless lads had been for no design of mere robbery, but for some sinister end. Philip's heart throbbed violently as the surmise came that a mysterious enemy was tracking, not simply two boys out of all the summer's host of traveling ones in general, but Philip Touchtone and Gerald Saxton, in particular. The question was, why were they the objects of his plot, whatever it might be? And was the attack upon Gerald or himself?
He entered the state-room softly. Gerald raised himself on his elbow.
"Is that you. Philip?" he asked.
"Yes, my lord," Philip answered, sitting down on the edge of the berth, and trying not to let his voice or manner hint of the trouble of his mind. "How is your head? Do you want any thing?"
"My head is ever so much better," said Gerald, sinking back luxuriously. "I should like some ice-water, if you'll get it, please, before long. I'd better not try to get up to-night, except to undress. Don't you think you'd like to get to bed soon yourself?"
"Yes," replied Philip, absently, "very soon."
He was asking himself whether he would not
